A week or two after I posted the above entry, I noticed that "Jiminy" was slowing down - and about a week later, he finally did die - of honorable old age.
And again, we went through the childhood hysterics of losing a pet. Oh, my goodness gracious. (And I should note that, oddly enough, our 7yo was more upset over the cricket's death than he was about last month's departure of our beloved pussy cat. Weird, but true.)
Jiminy was interred in an old Altoid container, along with a couple of his favorite leaves, and I anticipated a cricket funeral in the back yard.... but it didn't happen. Why not? Because the 7yo confidently insisted that said cricket was "just hibernating!" and that if we buried him, we would surely be burying him alive.
And so the cricket stayed... and stayed... and stayed.
|I pity the poor person who thinks that that Altoid container actually contains Altoids.|
The 7yo was inclined to get a bit teary-eyed. I, on the other hand, may or may not have been dancing a jig in the corner (at least mentally).
We made a popsicle-stick cross for the grave, and the cricket episode is now officially over. Onto whatever our next bug pet will be!